Angel's Golden Fiddle
by KrazedKat
Summary: Raziel was raised into this. After her mother was taken, she and her father did everything they could to hunt down the coven that killed her. But what happens when a hunt goes wrong? Her little world is about to get a whole lot more complicated. T for swearing in later chapters, slight violence and mentioned gore-ish.
1. Chapter 1

Running. I remember running. The branches hit and stung my face. My father had been lost in the cave. If I could get to the road, I'd be safe. I could grab the holy water from the truck.  
>This was supposed to be the last kill. The last time we would need to track another coven. Of course, my mother was among these. My father couldn't bare to kill her, and so I had to. I had to kill my own mother as she drained my father dry.<br>I remember bright lights in the road. Like industrial lights, like you would expect to see in someone's garage. A blood red wall; hitting it head first and _feeling_ my nose break against it; someone shooting me, the pain exploding in my neck and stomach. Only then does it goes black.  
>My vision is blurred as I wake, sweat caking my hair to my forehead. Something is beeping nonstop to my right, and there's a tube hooked up to my hand. A breeze wafts in, carrying the scent of disinfectant and medication galore. Great; they sent me to the hospital.<br>Now how does one explain a vampire attack? Maybe say "Edward got mad at me"? With all the pop culture about them these days, it could work. If everyone here just so happened to be an obnoxious normal teenager, that is.  
>A sharp pain shoots through my midsection when I try sitting up, making the beeps only come quicker. These things are so annoying some times. My fingers feel around over my chest through the thin hospital gown, tugging at the small sensor.<br>Of course, the monitor now read that I'd flat-lined; which would only serve the purpose of alerting the doctors and nurses. Then again, maybe that'd be a good way to get answers. Just kinda sit there, act like they've been expected (which they would be) and refuse to hook back up or something.  
>I shook my head, watching the door as I searched for my clothes. Normally they keep them in the room, right? Medical dramas tend to show that.<br>Of course, rather than finding my clothes, I find the room to be a tad different from a regular hospital. A floor-length glass tube sat against the wall. Well, more like pressed into the wall. Something floated inside, but it's not like I want to snoop now. Probably just a feeding frenzy of fish anyway.  
>"Oh, you're awake." Okay, did I forget my meds again? Because that voice kind of just came out of no where. Yeah, that was probably it. Who knew when they brought me in. Could've been weeks. Some kind of coma.<br>"Who are you?" was my quiet reply. A sound of moving water, swishing like someone was swimming. Probably just the fish again. Yeah, I was off my meds.  
>"My name, madam, is Abraham Sapien. And you are Raziel Wilder, correct?"<br>At this, my first response was to correct him. Raziel was the name of a great angel. A name that would never fit me. It's not that I'm some good little Christian girl (which I'm not), just that my actions are considered dirty and low.  
>"Rose. I prefer the name Rose." Still looking around, my vision caught on a green, shimmering figure inside of the glass. No, not in it. Beside it.<br>"You caused quite a stir coming in here, Rose." A striped figure, either a darker (much darker) green, or a black color. I couldn't really tell which. It was wearing compression shorts, oddly enough. A civilized monster. Now that would be a fun one to work with.  
>"You should be thankful that-"<br>"That you've not eaten me yet?" Okay, that wasn't a very smart move. Don't try that at home, kiddies. It's never smart to antagonize the monsters. Then again, I've never been very smart.  
>"That Agent Shawnee had a bad aim. Two millimeters to the left and you would be paralyzed." At this, I tried to challenge him by getting up. Key word: tried. The creature pushed forward, helping to keep me steady when my feet hit the ground. Everything hurt, but his nails digging into my wrists were much worse. Okay, that was a huge lie. My stomach and back were the worst pain. I guess getting shot does that to you though.<br>Go figure, even in my line of work, this is the first time I've been shot. Ever. Well, with actual bullets at least. I mean, I don't think having a witch doctor's giant leech spew acid would count as much.  
>The man seemed surprised as he stared down at me, either that or his face was stuck that way. Permanent frown, wide o, and two slits for a nose. Hello, Voldemort.<br>I reached a tendril of energy out to him as reflex, an immediate thing when I close my eyes. One sense is denied, another tries to make its way through. I'm special that way.  
>Normally, I can read people. I blink my eyes even, and it decides to latch to them, their entire life story is unraveled before my eyes. But, only those who still have a beating heart, and those still human enough to die.<br>"They plan to question you, you . I was told to alert them when you awoke." Intelligent blue eyes widened considerably, if they even could. Maybe it was a trick of the light... Yeah, it's nothing but a trick. How can you widen something that's stuck?  
>"I kinda figured. Why else would a monster keep me alive?" Once again that stern air off of him as I blinked. God this was annoying... I don't want to feel his emotions! Then again, beneath it all, was a hint of shock.<br>"You act like you know this situation well." I gave a small nod in reply to his question. Most kids who get homeschooling are weirdly religious or stay full idiots. Well, in my opinion, that second may be true. My life has been filled by hunting vamps and enjoying the more mysterious things in life. Basically, I kill the undead and help my dad hunt monsters for a living. Doesn't that sound fun?  
>"Not the first time I've gotten captured, bubba. Normally, Dad comes and gets me sooner. You're in for hell when he does." Another blink from myself, and he's feeling somewhat... concerned? Now that's a new one.<br>"Do you not remember...?" He looked at me like he was genuinely worried, something which caught me off guard. What on Earth did he think I wouldn't remember? Did he know about my father? No, no, keep cool, pretend everything is okay.  
>"Go get your friends. I'll be right here." He walked off with what looked like a sneer, and finally I was given the peace I'd been praying for.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

"Miss Wilder, would you please be so kind as to state your name?" Don't cooperate with them. If your name winds up with a record, you're screwed. Of course, that's what I was always taught. Nah, couldn't get on the record. Was screwed if I did.

"You already know it, so why repeat it?" My lips curled into a smirk, and he sneered in response. So this was Fishy's friend. A balding man whose face suggested late forties. There was a tremor in his hands as he fiddled with my files, then nodded to the recording device set between us.

"Ma'am, this will go quickly and painlessly if you just do as I ask." His papers were pulled up some, just enough to see his eyes above them. They were brown and glossy, bored, fairly unhappy… I blinked, accidentally allowing some of that feeling to flow into me. I shuddered from the cold feeling.

"Should I ask someone to turn up the heat for you?" He was a politician, likely. People person, but not always an honest one. Still, I shook my head and leaned back in the chair, tipping it onto its back legs and propping my knees against the heavy metal table.

"Then please, state your name." I gave a heavy sigh and rolled my eyes, but still (finally) complied.

"My name is Raziel Wilder, and you're watching American Idol!" He deadpanned, but accepted it.

"Let's see… Aged seventeen, born to Daniel Wilder and Violet Kidd, you don't have a school record that lasts longer than a week, and your mother died when you were three… Should I continue?" I waved my hand to allow him, already knowing I was screwed. He had all this shit on me, so what could I do?

"Alright then. Would you like to tell me why you were at the Onyx Cave site?" I shrugged and leaned my head back, staring at the wheeling monitors they'd had to bring in with me. The morphine drip had been lowered enough to keep me from feeling the full force of the pain, but there was still a twinge of it as I sat here.

"We were out hunting. The cave was just a quick place to hide."

"And you two had nothing to do with the people that had been disappearing there lately?"

I narrowed my eyes, glaring coldly into his. "Oh, yeah, because _we_ were the ones draining the bodies of any and all blood." He stared blankly for a moment, writing something down. "No, you dumb fuck! We were hunting."

"Hunting what?"

"What do you think? Bigfoot? Or maybe the fucking _vamps_ that actually were taking those people."

He was shocked into silence. Or at least, I think he was. By now, I've learned not to blink too often, and I didn't want to check for myself. I close my eyes, and I get his entire emotional palette. Would that be the right word? Palette?

_I don't believe it is._

"H-how long was I out?" My voice broke some, losing whatever tone I once had. His eyes met mine, noting the fear in them. He pulled an orange pill bottle from his coat pocket, reading the prescription on it and pouring out one of the tablets into his palm and passing it.

"Your medications. They control the schizophrenia, correct?"

"For the most part. He's still an annoying bastard."

_You know you love me, Raziel. _

He knew I hated that name… I wasn't worthy of it. Not with what I'd done.

_No, no you aren't. _

See? Even he knew. It was why he loved to use it...

"Shut up!" I snapped, forgetting momentarily who was on which side of the figurative glass.

"Excuse me?" came the voice of my interrogator, watching me dry-swallow the pill.

"Not you, Mister…"

"Manning." Manning? That was seriously his name? I'd seen him on a few news channels, but his name actually is Manning?

_Of course that's his real name, Razi! Don't you love it?_

Thank you for the sarcasm, Hayden. He's always there to fuck up my day. That same old snickering echoes through my head, growling louder the more it pisses me off.

"Now again, sir…" He raises his brows in an unamused fashion as he looks at me. "How long was I asleep?" Manning scans his papers, frowning slightly at a note.

"Three days. You lasted an hour alone before going into shock." Oh, great. Something else I don't remember. "Medical staff had to sedate you." His files are laid flat and I'm now more or less allowed to see them. What were these? How'd he found them? One was from Wichita, another from Washington… Well shit, they had everything on us.

"So I should be able to leave in… six? Seven hours? I can drive alone, but, what time is it?"

_Time for you to get a watch!_

Hayden, please shut the fuck up. Just cooperate with me for once.

_That would be no fun, Raziel._

The faster we can get out of here, the faster-

_-the faster you can suppress me?_

I doubled over in my chair, holding my head in one hand and gripping the pole of the IV drip in my other. He loved doing this to me, torturing me and fucking with my head whenever possible.

"Four in the morning," Manning answers calmly as he pops a pill of his own. He seems annoyed as he stands, walking towards the door. He looks back at me, though. "We can't let you go, however. Miss Wilder, you're an underaged woman who knows too much about things she shouldn't stick her nose into. Until you're discharged, I'll be see if I can do the paperwork to keep you here.

_We have roomies now, Razi!_

Hayden allows me to sit up now, and all I can do is silently stare after Manning in my annoyant. I attempt to stand after he's been gone a bit, only to fall like before with a sharp pain in my gut. There's blood as I hit the ground with a scream, my attached heart monitor setting off fast. Of course though, this doesn't seem to draw any attention to the room. Tomb, more like.

_Don't be such a fuddy duddy! We get to go see Daddy!_

The metal door is almost thrown off its hinges and a large red man burst through the frame. He slides somewhat on the yellowed (and now red) tile before he can double back to roughly scoop me into his arms. I hear a clicking on the floor… He has cloven hooves… Still, as my eyes fall close for a moment, I realize how annoyed he is with this. He's demonic, pissed off, and now that I think about it, the fucker who broke my nose.

"Hey Luci," start roughly, glaring up at him. "Bringin' me home?"

"Kid, shut up before I tear the rest of the stitches out myself!" He continues to run with me, mutter a urse as I go black again. That's right, buddy. Ah crap...


End file.
